If only falling was calculated…
by MirrorMyThoughts
Summary: -Emma glanced back at him, her eyes softening, "Because you loved her."- Gaining the love of a princess isn't easy, but neither is earning the love of a pirate. Emma/Hook (Starts before "In the name of the brother." Also includes a healthy dose of Daddy Charming.)
1. Chapter 1

Title: If only falling was calculated…

Summary: -Emma glanced back at him, her eyes softening, "Because you loved her."- Gaining the love of a princess isn't easy, but neither is earning the love of a pirate. (Starts before "In the name of the brother.")

Genre: Romance/Drama/Angst

Pairings: Emma/Hook, With a healthy dose of Daddy Charming :)

AU: Things deviate a little, because—well, just _because_ really, but main plot things are still included, but they may not necessarily happen the in the same order/the same way as they happened in the show.

~O~

"So, you made it to Storybrooke." Emma took great pleasure in watching Hook jump, his eyes darting around the deck of his ship before he finally spotted her; perched comfortably on the top step of the stairs leading up to the steering wheel. She twirled a pair of hand cuffs around her fingers, making sure Hook had no illusions as to her presence on his ship.

"Swan..."

"I found Archie." He winced at her tone. Good. "You let us think he was dead."

"I had no idea he was so important to you, love." He smirked, attempting to lighten the mood.

"You let my _son_ think he was dead." Emma wasn't having any of it. Her son had been put through losing a dear friend, for nothing. Her son had had to attend a funeral, for nothing. Her son had cried himself to sleep, _for nothing._ Emma was furious.

"Come now lass, I didn't know who he was-"

Emma shook her head. "Don't. Don't lie to me."

"I'm not- okay, I knew who he was, Cora told me…" His hands were raised, placating, it only served to further aggravate her.

"Cora!"

"But I didn't know he was important to your son…"

"Cora did this? You're still working with her?"

He shot her a look. "I didn't really have a choice in the matter, now did I, pet?"

"You always have a choice."

"Nice words sweetheart, but I chose you. Then you left me up that blasted bean-"

"No," She cut him off, practically leaping to her feet as her anger bubbled closer to the surface. "We saw through your disguise. Or don't you remember, Killian Jones, the _blacksmith_. You didn't chose me, you just didn't want to be left behind-"

"Look what good that did me." Hook to a step forward, his hand lowering from their defensive position. Emma noticed Hook attempt to subtly reach for his sword and she watched as confusion danced across his features as he realised his sword wasn't strapped to his side, before realisation settled in its place. He'd left his sword on the ship, below in his quarters- she'd checked; he'd most likely felt it wasn't necessary to carry around on his sneaky trips into town. Instead, Emma was certain all he had on him was the little knife peeking out of his boot and his hook. "You left me behind anyway."

"And I was right. You outright admitted your quest for revenge on Rumplestiltskin when we first found out who you really were."

"Then why bother with pretence. Why take me along only to betray me…"

Emma slowly moved down the staircase, running her hand lightly over the smooth wood of the banister. The cold breeze tasselled her hair and tugged at her coat, but she didn't feel the cold. Fury barely contained, simmered beneath her skin, warming her from the inside. The insufferable pirate still hadn't clued in to exactly how pissed off she was right now, because if he had, he wouldn't be throwing pathetic accusations at her attempting to turn the tables in his favour.

"_Betray_ you. _I_ betrayed you?" She felt her hands tremble. "Since you've been in Storybrooke you've kidnapped _and threatened_ an innocent man. Threatened Belle- Don't deny it, I saw you leave the library; lost you when you took to the rooftops though… it's what made me come down here to take a look. And the shawl you tried to tuck into your pocket when you realised I was here- let me guess, it belonged to Mr Gold?"

Emma watched as he searched for something to say, only to realise she'd see through any and all of his lies, so he remained silent.

"You really want to know why I left you up that beanstalk? It's because I didn't trust you, your original quest for revenge could have been anything, but then I realised he took someone from you. A woman, someone you loved." Emma reached the bottom of the staircase and stopped, staring at him, daring him to say something- anything. "I knew – that just like the people in the village- you wouldn't let anyone stand in your way- wouldn't let innocent people, like Archie, like Belle, like _my son_, stand in your way. So no, I was not going to help you get to Storybrooke, I was not going to let you anywhere near the people I care about."

"Ah, Miss Swan," He sneered bitterly. "The foolish hero, naïve and…"

"Give me the shawl, Hook." She said finally, interrupting whatever else he'd planned to say. She had no patience left with which to hear it. She held her hand out, palm upwards, fingers loosely curled. The handcuffs in her other hand clinked quietly.

Hooks only hand curled around the ends of the shawl, protruding from the sizable pocket in his coat. "He killed her you know, right in front of me. I watched her die, as he ripped her heart from her chest and crushed it between his fingers."

"And I'm sorry, I really am…" And she was. Emma knew what it was like to have someone die in her arms, someone she cared about. But she couldn't imagine what it would be like to have someone you loved, actually loved, and who loved you in return die in front of you. But that didn't mean killing was okay. Two wrongs didn't make a right. "But I can't let you kill Mr Gold…And I may not have known Milah, but I don't think she would have wanted you to waste your life chasing after him trying to off him."

"Don't. You know _nothing_ about her."

Emma swallowed, this Hook was nothing like the talkative flirt who'd climbed the beanstalk with her, this Hook was bitter and angry and Emma wondered how she could have possibly missed it, the broken man beneath the charming exterior. "Then tell me I'm wrong."

Hook didn't say anything- couldn't say anything. Emma lowered her hand and approached him cautiously. He didn't say anything when she gently turned him around, nor did he say anything when she snapped the handcuffs around his wrists, or even when she noticed the problem with that idea and unclicked the cuff from the wrist which held the hook and re-snapped it just above his elbow, tight enough that he couldn't wriggle it off.

Her anger had all but dissipated as she turned him back to face her, the outward appearance of a pirate, with the sad blue eyes of a man. It seemed, for the moment, that all the fight had left him, years of anger- directed at Rumplestiltskin, fading into the background as the pain of losing Milah once again rose to the surface.

"Perhaps," She said carefully, unsure what to say, what was there _to _say, because he'd lost someone… Someone he'd loved, and she couldn't imagine what that felt like. "Storybrooke… could be a new start…"

"I have nothing left. _Nothing._" He said quietly, not even bothering to look at her.

"Then maybe it's time to start looking."

~O~

He'd gotten out. Only hours after she'd locked him up, she'd returned from a coffee break to see the door swung open on its hinges. Emma had grabbed her keys about to drive right back down to the docks when the phone rang.

And now- now she was perched on the edge of his hospital bed, watching him sleep, wracked with guilt because she hadn't stopped him. What, had she honestly thought one blunt conversation, in which she brutally stabbed at his emotions, was going to stop his quest for revenge? He'd been after Rumplestiltskin for years- _years_. She was an idiot to think he'd give up so easily.

And look where it had gotten him, three fractured ribs, and a hell of a lot of bruising. Contrary to the cliché, Hook didn't look _peaceful_ while he slept, he just looked normal- granted there was considerably less sass, and the break from come-on's and innuendo's was welcome. She was, however, relieved that the med's he'd been given would keep him out cold a little while longer. It meant she had a few extra moments to herself to just _think._

Emma cast a fleeting glance at the door to the private room. A hell of a shit storm was kicking off just outside, and it would be far easier to deal with if she didn't have Hook antagonising everyone the minute he opened his mouth. Wearily she got to her feet, mentally preparing herself to leave the quiet sanctuary of the little room. Hooks steady breathing gave her pause.

Well, she wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. It was with smug satisfaction that Emma handcuffed the wrist closest to her to the hospital bed. It didn't matter that he had three fractured ribs and so obviously wasn't going anywhere; the handcuffs were more of a statement anyway.

~O~

"He hurt Belle."

"I know." Emma continued the jab furiously at the buttons on the vending machine. _Beep_. This item is not available. Jab. _Beep_. This item is- Jab. _Beeeeep_. "Argh, I can _see_ the M&M's." She kicked the bottom of the vending machine.

"Emma."

Emma took a deep breath, and peevishly jabbed in a different set of numbers. _Beep_. "Stupid hospital vending machines…" She pressed the refund button, giving up entirely on her quest for chocolate. It just didn't seem meant to be.

"He-"

"I know, David. I know." She interrupted flatly, collecting the changes and turning to face the man who had turned out to be her father.

"Then why are you protecting him?" David asked, and she had to commend his effort to appear neutral, but she could see the suspicion behind his eyes. Damn it, Mary Margaret what have you been saying to him?

"I'm not protecting him," She said moving off down the corridor towards the seating area. She felt David fall into step beside her. "I'm just keeping him out of the way until everything calms down."

David's hand caught her arm. "Emma, what's wrong?"

She turned to face him. "Nothing." And with anyone else that would have worked, but Emma was quickly beginning to see that David was every bit as perceptive as she was, but also held more tact than her mother. While Mary Margaret meant well, she pushed… and Emma just wasn't ready for a parental figure to push into her business yet. Or ever, she was a grown woman, and she was finally getting a chance to know them, to learn just who her parents were, but their absence from most of her life was still there… still relevant. She'd been used to looking after herself, and just because she finally found her parent's doesn't mean she has to tell them every little thing about her life. Some things were still personal and private.

And the look in David's eyes said it all. It said he knew something was up- and it also said that he would except her answer of 'nothing', even though he didn't believe it. He wouldn't push her for answers. Damn it. That just made it all the more complicated, because now she felt guilty for not talking to him.

The concern, clear and unhidden in his gaze, coupled with the knowledge that he wouldn't pressure her into talking made her crave a childhood where she had grown up with her parents. With Mary Margaret, meaning well but at times slightly over baring and David-

She could picture herself talking to him about silly childish troubles, like worrying that her friends didn't really like her, or that she was struggling in school. She could see him listening, quiet and thoughtful before carefully explaining his thoughts on the matter, while always encouraging her to do what _she_ felt was best. Then later, when she was tucked comfortably in bed, mind soothed by her fathers' guidance, he would head back downstairs and placate Mary Margaret with what they'd talked about, ensuring that her mother remained in the loop, without going into detail and breaking her trust.

"Okay, fine. Maybe I'm protecting him a little." She admitted, turning to face him in the middle of the corridor.

His eyes widened briefly, she supposed he hadn't thought she'd actually admit it, "Why?" He removed his hand from her arm, dropping it to his side.

"It's not as black and white as 'He hurt Belle'," Emma said, running a hand through her hair. "I mean yes, if this were a normal town I'd most likely be locking Hook up awaiting a hearing in which he'd probably go to jail for something like ten years."

"What do you mean _if_ this was a normal town?"

"Well it's not is it? Things keep happening, people get hurt, or killed, or kidnapped … or hit by a car, and there is nothing I can do to stop it happening again. I talked to Smee earlier; he said Gold pushed him over the town line to test the potion Gold developed. What if it hadn't worked, what if Smee had forgotten who he was?"

David remained quiet, simply watching her.

"Exactly, nothing would have happened. Gold would have just gone back to perfecting his stupid little potion and then he would have shoved someone else over the line to test it. There aren't clear laws here, hell Gold tried to kill Regina—that's what caused me and Mary Margaret to get stuck over there anyway."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that two men have some sort of stupid feud between them; and that Belle was caught in the cross fire. Whenever anyone in the whole town has a feud with someone else, an _innocent_ bystander is usually the one to suffer. Regina brought you all over here—created this stupid curse—because of something that went down with Mary Margaret… Feuds from your stupid fairytale world have carried over and I can't take sides because I don't know the whole story. I don't know what started any of it, so yes. I am protecting Hook from Gold, but I am also protecting Gold from Hook…" She sighed.

She took a moment to restructure her argument before continuing. "I can't punish anyone, for any of it, as Sherriff. Not Hook, not Gold, not Regina, not even Cora if I found her, because none of you seem to conform to the rules I've lived by all my life—the cells in the station aren't exactly lifelong imprisonment material, and I can't exactly hand fairy talk characters over to the state… so _nothing_ I do is ever going to be enough to stop it from happening again. I can't fight against _magic_, David." Emma's voice broke slightly as she finally trailed off, and damn it she hadn't meant to go off on such a tangent, especially not in front of her father.

"You blame yourself." Stupid perceptive David, of course he saw through everything she said, and saw what she _hadn't _said.

She sighed. "I had him locked up David, locked up down in the station. I took a coffee break. Hook got out. What happened to Belle, it's on me." Then she turned and walked away, leaving David confused and alone in the hospital corridor.

~O~

A few days later Emma sat awkwardly by Hooks bed, she didn't really want to be here, but this was the best way of preventing Gold from finishing the job. Also other than the steady whirl of the machines, the room was silent. Ironically this—Hooks hospital room—was the most peaceful place in Storybrooke at the moment; outside these four walls was a complete shit storm and Emma wasn't quite sure how to deal with any of it yet.

A croaky voice interrupted the quiet, "She would have wanted him dead, you know."

Emma glanced up from the doctor's notes detailing Hooks injury. His eyes looked clear and focused; briefly she wondered how long he'd been awake. "What?"

"Milah, she would have wanted Rumplestiltskin dead." He continued, easing himself up slightly on the bed so he could properly look at her.

Emma only looked at him in confusion. "Well yeah, he killed her; of course she'd want him dead." She wondered just what pills the pirate was on, because this seemed a step beyond merely spouting the obvious.

"You said she wouldn't." _Huh?_

"What?"

"Back on my ship, you said she wouldn't want him dead." _Oh…_

Instantly Emma shook her head, "No, I said she wouldn't want you wasting _your life_ trying to kill him."

"But-"

Again she shook her head, cutting him off. "There is a difference, you've just been chasing him so long, you haven't had a chance to look in the mirror and realise what exactly it's done to you."

He laughed, humourlessly, "I wasn't exactly a knight in shining armour before-"

She found herself watching him shrewdly, gnawing at her bottom lip, unsure about how to explain that she _knew_ he wasn't truly the bad guy he seemed determined to make himself out to be. Up the beanstalk she'd felt it, the connection, the kinship… and maybe she _was_ being naïve, perhaps she just didn't want to acknowledge the villainous part of him because what would that say about her. There was a connection between them, as much as she tried to deny it, as much as she wished it wasn't there… it was. So if he really was a bad guy, then maybe, just maybe, there was a darker part to her heart than she realised.

She shook her head, dismissing the thought. She was the first to stand up and declare her imperfections, god knows she possesses an almost countless number, but she's not a bad person—and neither is Hook. He _isn't_, she could tell, and maybe it was time to start trusting her instincts again, because every fibre of her being screamed at her to fix this—fix _him_.

"Maybe not, but you weren't a cold blooded killer either."

"How would you know?"

Emma glanced back at him, her eyes softening, "Because you loved her."

~O~

Maybe she was fooling herself, perhaps, no matter what she did—or tried to do, it just wasn't possible to stop people in Storybrooke from suffering at the hands of those with magic. Or, and this was the more likely option, _she _just wasn't good enough—wasn't _strong_ enough to keep them safe.

An angry wailing pierced the drowning silence of her room.

Her alarm blared angrily off to her left, she groaned glancing over at the time, well that was an awful nights' sleep. It continued to make a god awful noise for a few moments longer, as Emma summoned the necessary energy to reach out and smack the thing. The room tumbled into silence, yet Emma couldn't find the motivation to get up. It's not like it would actually make a difference—

Aside from Storybrooke's issues, a certain roguish pirate weighed heavily on her mind. Their last conversation had ended awkwardly; "because you loved her." God, what had possessed her to say that? He'd just stared at her, his expression shocked. Then, he'd switched from shocked to calculating—still staring mind—but hadn't uttered another word for the further hour she'd remained hidden in his room. It was disconcerting to say the least, and Emma, in a true flee-when-things-get-difficult fashion, had decided to avoid Hook until she's made up her mind with exactly _what_ she wanted to do about him. Obviously, his quest for revenge was a cause for concern, and she was wholeheartedly against his plans to murder Mr Gold. So she needed to stop that somehow….

But another part of her wanted, almost desperately to help him, not in harming Rumplestilskin, god no, but in a way she'd wished someone had helped her… and that was terrifying.

She shook the thoughts from her head. She'd barely slept; her restless mind had woken her around three, and she'd not managed to get back to sleep. She glanced at the clock again. She really didn't want to get up. She was exhausted; mentally more than physically….

You know what? That was it… Emma Swan was taking the day off. David would no doubt be down at the station anyway, so she didn't feel too guilty… Storybrooke would still have their _Prince Charming_ looking after them—but Emma was in no mood to deal with supernatural crap today, nope she was going to stay firmly tucked up in bed.

She grabbed the corner of her duvet and rolled around, wiggling and shifting until she felt comfortably cocooned in her blankets. _So much better_, there is nothing in the world that tops the feeling you get when you need to get up for something you're dreading but then, through your own design or simply the ways of the world, you realise you don't have to get up—that you can spend however long you want snuggled under the covers while the world trudges on without you. Pure and utter _bliss_….

~O~

"Emma! Emma?!"

Loud frantic cries burst into her content sleepy bubble, and she found her eyes blinking open in shock at the raised voices that stampeded into her apartment. A quick look at the clock informed her she'd dozed off for a few hours following her spur of the moment decision to have a pyjama day. She was surprised that she'd actually slept, she'd thought maybe she'd simply lay awake for a few hours—resting as best she could—before getting up to lounge around the apartment.

The noises continued…

Thoroughly annoyed, but realising that the loud noises weren't going to stop unless she did something, she made a sleep fuelled, not quite thinking straight, oh-my-god-I-was-sleeping, noise of distaste.

"Emma?" David's entered her line of vision, "We were worried, we had no idea where you were!"

"I just stayed in bed David," She muttered sleepily, "It's what _normal_ people do sometimes, no need to send a search party."

"_This_ is the Sherriff that foils my every plan?"

Emma sat up in surprise, just in time to watch Captain _flipping_ Hook limp into her bedroom. Oh of _course_. Of all the people to follow David into her room it had to be the one person she'd decided to avoid. Well it seemed like that plan was out the window. The universe hated her. It was then she became uncomfortably aware that she was still in her pyjamas, wrapped up in bed and no doubt cursed with bed hair. She was simply too mortified to blush.

"I told you to wait by the door." David snapped.

"Who was worried?" Questioned Emma, surely Hook hadn't been concerned? She did her best to ignore Hooks' appreciative glance and fought the urge to cross her arms over her chest. Her pyjamas were modest; there was nothing to feel self-conscious about. She refused to let him see she was unsettled about his presence in her bedroom and her state of undress—well she was dressed, but not like, properly dressed and urgh, she just wanted to go back to sleep.

"Me and Henry… don't worry, I sent him back off to school—Ruby agreed to make sure he actually got there. She's possibly the only person he can't give the slip. You didn't turn up for work, or for lunch…. " David trailed off.

It took a couple of seconds, a look at Hooks raised eyebrow, a glance in her direction; taking note of her pyjamas, but eventually Prince Charming's overprotective parental nature kicked in and Hook was shoved—none too gently—from her room, the pirate winced, his hand moving up to brace his still healing ribs. "We'll wait in the kitchen," David tossed over his shoulder.

The door shut with a sharp snap.

Emma groaned, feeling the delayed embarrassment begin to set in, she felt her cheeks burn and contemplated barricading her door and refusing to leave for a few weeks—or at least until she felt she could once again look both David and Hook in the eye. However, her plans for hiding away from the world were dashed when she heard David pottering around in the kitchen, no doubt attempting to give her some privacy to get dressed.

It became quite clear they weren't planning on leaving any time soon, and it seemed the only solution was to see what they wanted before she could even hope to continue her day of relaxing. Annoyed at the blatant interruption, god, didn't people knock anymore? She grabbed her clothes and made her way to the bathroom, shooting both men a glare for good measure as she left her room. Idiots.

~O~

"So," Emma began upon entering the kitchen, her hair loose and damp around her shoulders, "What was so important that it couldn't wait until tomorrow? And why did you burst into my bedroom like there was a fire?"

"You didn't answer your phone, we were worried, especially with all that's going on with Regina—and like I said, I barely managed to convince Henry to actually go to school, the kid was worried."

"Erm, right, sorry, I probably should have let you know I wasn't coming in today." She shrugged sheepishly. "Er, so why's he here?" She glanced over at Hook, sat quite comfortably at the table, his chin propped up on his one good hand.

"About that… you see; Hook was released from Hospital today and since no one's pressing charges…" David scowled, "He wanted-"

"My Hook, or did you become so attached that you loath the mere thought of returning it." The stupid pirate grinned at her, "Don't fret love, you're welcome to help me polish it _whenever_ the need arises."

Emma merely rolled her eyes, "It's down at the station."

"We need the key to your draw," said David through gritted teeth, looking as if it took all his energy not to leap over the worktop and fracture Hooks' other ribs.

"Why didn't you say so, I wouldn't have needed to—" Emma froze. Hook's.. er.. hook was in the bottom draw of her desk… but so was his scarf. She was suddenly regretting whatever it was that possessed her to keep the stupid thing. Now she couldn't simply give David the key and send them on their way, because while David may not know the significance of the dark material, Hook would, and he'd no doubt jump to conclusions. She'd only kept it because—because… well, she just had. It didn't have to mean anything! Just because she didn't throw it away, _doesn't _mean she's developed _feelings_ or anything as equally absurd.

However—just to be on the safe; un-conclusion-jumped, side—it would probably be best if she handed over the hook herself, keeping her father and more importantly Hook, from awkward assumptions.

"You know what, never mind. I'm up and dressed now, I may as well head down with you. I probably still have a mountain of paperwork left anyway." She grabbed her coat and keys before making her way to the door. Neither Prince nor Pirate had moved. Impatiently she opened the door and gestured to the hallway. "…by all means, take your time, it's not like you _woke_ me up for this or anything."

Hook smirked, sliding slowly off the stool and limping over. "Ooh, again with the authority; _I like it_." He grinned as he noticed the small smile she hadn't quite managed to hide. He was just _such_ a damn flirt, like, _all_ the time, she couldn't help but be _slightly_ amused by his persistence.

It was all Emma could do to roll her eyes and shake her head at her father, hoping that David would understand that it wasn't worth calling Hook out on his incessant flirting.

~O~

A few days later, when Mr Gold demanded her help in locating his son, she was more than ready to go—even _before_ he started threatening people.

She just… she just needed to get out of Storybrooke for a while. Just a few days to clear her head and—as much as she'd grown to love everyone in Storybrooke—to be around normal people for a while (baring the presence of Mr Gold).

For a few days, she could be Emma again… just Emma.

~O~

The first thing she did when she got back from New York was to check up on Hook. She purposely ignored Mary Margaret's pointed look—_so what _if she was making sure he hadn't gotten into any trouble while she was gone. It didn't mean anything. _It didn't._ She was the sheriff, it was her job.

She also needed to have a conversation with him that he wasn't going to like. His whole feud with Rumplestiltskin had suddenly gotten personal; because as much as she hated it, the man was Henry's Grandfather, and that made him family. She refused Neal's offer to come with her to Hook's ship, she left him drinking coffee with her parents—something really she wasn't at all happy about. She didn't care that they knew each other and she didn't care that _maybe_ he could help her convince Hook not to kill Gold, she didn't want Neal _anywhere_ near her—besides she thought it was more of a ploy to talk with her in private than to actually help.

No, she'd talk with Hook alone.

~O~

She hadn't expected to walk aboard the Jolly Roger and find the pirate in question drowning his wits in a— in _several_ bottles of rum. The empty bottles lay empty beside him, rolling backwards and forwards with the gentle rocking of the ship. Amazingly the scene retained a peaceful quality.

"Uh, Hook. I have to um, talk to you." Hmm, she glanced at the bottle in his hand; unsure whether this conversation would be easier or harder if he was drunk?

He barely spared her a glance, "Ah, beautiful, what brings you aboard my lowly pirate ship."

She groaned inwardly, and repeated herself, this time more firmly. "We need to talk."

"_That's_ more like it," He winked at her, "there's the Swan I know."

She couldn't summon even the faintest hint of a smile, gods, why did everything have to be so complicated? She'd barely even managed to wrap _her_ head around Mr Gold's identity as her son's grandfather… he wasn't exactly grandparent material, what with his anger issues, manipulative tendencies and more secrets than there were stars in the sky. Hell, she _still_ didn't trust him. And now, she was asking Hook to not only follow the warped family tree her son had accumulated, but to also understand that Gold's new status of 'family' meant any revenge plots would have to get her out of the way first.

But more than that, he needed to understand that this was different to when she arrested him a few weeks ago on his ship. That was her trying to protect the people of Storybrooke whilst trying to stay out of personal feuds. _This_ was her declaring war- any further attempt at harming Gold would result in her actively opposing him. She wasn't sure how exactly- he'd already proven that locking him up at the station didn't work, but she would think of something. She had to keep her family safe—whether she liked them all or not.

This meant she was ending the feud between Gold and Hook—and she was ending it now.

…And maybe she was being presumptuous, but she didn't think Hook wanted to harm her any more than she wanted to harm him. Perhaps she thought it may even be enough to get him to at least consider giving up… However, a part of her was scared that she was wrong and that she didn't mean anywhere near as much to Hook as she... er… hoped? Not that she thought she meant a lot to him—nothing like that, more along the lines of meaning enough to him for Hook to not kill her should she get in his way…

She sighed, deciding that the best course of action was simply to blurt and deal with whatever came after as best she could… and started to explain.

Suffice to say, it didn't go over too well.

"…So just because he shares blood with your son, he gets a clean slate? He gets away with it? With everything…?"

She wriggled her fingers uselessly at her sides, feeling fidgety and agitated. She couldn't find the words to get Hook to understand, and she was stunned by how important it was to her for him to understand… Words didn't seem enough to express the emotions the recent trip to New York had shaken up, she swallowed awkwardly. "It's not that simple…"

"Nothing ever is." He muttered bitterly, his expression indecipherable

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked angrily, feeling like somehow it was a snipe aimed at her.

"Nothing your _highness_," he sneered, bringing a bottle once more to his lips.

Emma recoiled, thrown by his hostility. She'd known he wasn't going to respond well, she'd _known_ he was going to be angry… but she'd never expected it to be thrown in her direction so fully. Foolish really on her part; chasing the ghosts of something that apparently wasn't there between them. "You've never called me that before…" She murmured quietly, silently questioning why she cared so much.

"It's who you are, isn't it? Princess to the entire kingdom, the precious child of Snow White and Prince Charming… beloved saviour to all..."

"Look I didn't ask to be a … princess or whatever; I never wanted it. Just like I never wanted to be some stupid saviour! I didn't want to sleep with Gold son… well okay, at time I did, but I didn't know he was Gold's son, not that I'd change anything if I could go back, because god, he gave me Henry… another thing that wasn't really planned… Well okay, maybe I'd change getting the watches; I should have just delivered a swift punch to his lying jaw, but—back to the point I didn't ask to be a princess, and I didn't ask to be the saviour…" She stomped closer, kicking an empty bottle out of her way. She hooked her fingers into the collar of his jacket and dragged him to his feet, ignoring his surprise, and shoved him against the mast. She leaned in close, making sure he could see her eyes, and the steel behind them. "But I did ask for a family—for _my_ family. Every single day, for twenty eight years and I've found them."

He opened his mouth to speak but she stalled his words with a finger over his lips. She shook her head. "I'm not done."

Hook frowned but remained silent.

"I know what it's like to be alone; I know what it's like to lose family and I promise you it is a feeling my son will never learn while there is still breath in my body. Gold's is part of Henry's family now. I will not let my son lose him."

Emma stepped back, running a hand through her hair as she attempted to reign in her temper. She hadn't meant for this, she'd just wanted to talk, to try to convince him to leave Gold alone… but somehow they'd ended up arguing—Hook just had a way of getting under her skin…

Hook didn't move, he remained where she'd shoved him; slumped against the mast, his hair falling across his eyes.

Emma swallowed and briefly glanced away. Steeling herself for his response.

"Do your worse lass, I'm not giving up—I can't…" Hook raised his head, tilting his chin ever so slightly, as his arms opened wide baring his chest.

She stared at him; eyes pained. Somehow she'd known it was going to end like this, from the moment she'd met him, she'd known that at some point or another they would end up on opposite sides.

She just hadn't expected the crushing feeling in her heart when it happened. Knowing there was nothing left to say, she turned around and left his ship.

She didn't look back. Not once…

~O~

AN: So, this was me playing around a little... reverting back to my angsty roots a tad :P

It's designed to be a three part thing. Part two is partially written, but I've had a couple issues with a scene in the middle that's currently a pain in my arse. Happens every time I try and write something... I don't know why it keeps surprising me, but it does. Damn it.

Still, hopefully you didn't hate it too much :) Thanks for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Forewarning—I don't hate Neal… or even dislike him really, oddly, I actually have a soft spot for him. I mean, he's a fudging dick for what he did to Emma—no question, it was a dumb ass move, and the idiot tried to brush it aside in the New York episode—bahh, fudge that. But when he's around Henry, and his general characterization… I find him really interesting, and I think he's an overall good guy.

Basically to sum it up… this chapter has a lot of Neal, and consequently, Neal and Emma interactions. Er also, please remember Emma knows very little about the enchanted forest, her reactions and assumptions are based on things she's heard and may not always be correct. With that in mind, please enjoy.

* * *

~O~

The next three days were hell. Her temper had a short fuse and she found herself blowing up at almost everyone; her parents included. She couldn't help thinking back to her argument with Hook and it's following connotations; and hell if it didn't make her want to break things.

The worst part of it was that she understood. She really did and she couldn't fault Hook for wanting to punish Gold for Milah's death, hell Mr Gold deserved to be brought to some form of justice and not only for Milah. As far as Emma understood, Gold had wronged a great many of the townsfolk within Storybrooke…

But she couldn't help but see little redeeming features with in him, in the way he talked about Belle and his son—even the way Henry had recently warmed up to his grandfather—and she can't help but think that the man Hook's hunting doesn't quite exist anymore. Which only further confused the situation, because no matter how much time has passed, no matter how different Mr Gold is to the man who did those crimes, many people were still hurt, and many people, deceased or otherwise deserved justice.

But justice can never be murder, Emma reminded herself each time she found her convictions swaying.

_Justice can never be murder._

~O~

"Hey, Em… can we talk?"

Emma froze, her fingers momentarily stilling on the plate she was washing up before she forced them to continue their task. "Sorry, but I'm not really in the right frame of mind for a conversation right now, and I know you must think it—_this_ about you, but it's not…hell I wish it was, it would make things so much simpler…"

He moved closer to her, picking up the drying cloth next to her and started blotting the plates she placed on the drying rack. There was a moment's peace between them, before the familiar routine—one they'd perfected years ago—pushed past Emma's outward façade of calm. She stopped washing, placed her sopping wet hands on the small bit of counter between the outer edge of the sink and her belly, and forced herself to just _freaking_ breathe.

"Not about me huh…?" He murmured wryly, continuing to dry his way through the stack even as Emma struggled not to fall apart beside him.

"Well it _wasn't_ until just now." She muttered bitterly as, finally, she turned to look at him. "What do you want Neal?"

"It's about Henry."

Her eyes narrowed instantly. "What about him?"

Neal looked at her, helpless, confused and just as out of his depth as she was. "I'm not staying in Storybrooke, Em. I can't… not with my dad and the history between us… but I want to be a part of Henry's life—no I _need_ to be part of his life, I can't abandon him… not like I was abandoned."

_And how you abandoned me_… She added internally.

He picked up a mug and turned it over a few times in the drying cloth. "Eleven years… and I didn't even know he existed… I've missed so much. I don't want to miss anything else… I don't want to take him away from you—I wouldn't dream of it, but maybe he could come and stay with me for a while, the holidays or something… or even just a few weekends here and there…"

She didn't expect the anger that rose with in her. Once, long ago, she'd wanted to start a family with this man. Damn it all if he wasn't showing, repeatedly; as if the universe wanted to rub it in her face, how good a father he could be—could _have_ been. They could have been a perfect family, at least in the way that mattered, with him and Henry, she could have created the family she'd been looking for all her life. She'd trusted him with her heart, they could have had everything… but he'd broken it… In new York he'd tried to explain, offered reasons for leaving her… that he _had_ too, that he hadn't had any other option… not once had he acknowledged what the betrayal had done to her. He hadn't thought about what he'd _taken_ from her: the two years behind bars had been nothing in comparison.

Not once had he apologised.

She wanted to scream, to yell 'What about me?'… To beat his head against a wall until he realised Henry was not the only injured party in this situation… but she couldn't.

She was Henry's mom, and she was learning that Henry came first. In all her decisions, hell, even in her heart, he was everything, so she pushed her pain and anger behind the wall that had caged it for so many years and did her best to smile. Because this was for Henry, and he is more important than Neal ever was.

"Of course you'll be part of his life, I don't know how it'll work out, what with Storybrooke's craziness, but somehow we'll come to an arrangement."

And the stupid git was relieved. As if he'd genuinely believed she'd deny him access to his son, and okay, so she'd lied in New York by not initially telling him about Henry. But she'd just had a revelation dumped on her head and her emotions were all over the place; she thought she could be excused a brief lapse in judgement. But now, for him to think she'd purposefully keep them apart, after seeing how pleased Henry was to get to know his father… did Neal really think so little of her?

It stung; worse than she'd believed possible. Emma knew that he'd moved on, he was engaged for crying out loud, but she'd hoped for their relationship; something that had such a lasting effect on her, to at least _mean_ something to him… instead he'd treated it with little more than casual indifference.

Neal was just so focused on Henry, which she was happy about, really she was… but seventeen year old Emma couldn't help but whisper pitifully each time Neal was around Henry or Gold… Hell even Tamara.

What about me? _What about me?_

~O~

She started spending more time at work, so she could avoid Neal's impromptu visits, as well as avoiding Mary Margaret's constant looks of concern. It was hard enough sorting through the emotions in her head without watching _other_ people trying to work out what she was feeling as well.

The phone rang and Emma glanced briefly at David's figure hunched over some paperwork before she answered it.

"Sheriff Swan's office…"

"Miss Swan? It's Lloyd; one of the bar tenders down at the Green Dragon…"

"Hey Lloyd, what's up?"

"Er, well, there's a bit of a ruckus."

Emma rubbed her eyes, oh just brilliant. "A bit of a ruckus…?"

"Well, he just doesn't seem to understand that we can refuse to serve people once they get to a certain state of drunkenness, and he's refusing to leave… and well…"

"He…?"

"Captain Hook, Miss."

Emma's grip tightened considerably on the phone. "I'll be right there."

"Thank you…" She didn't give him a chance to finish as she hung up. A week—a _whole_ week—she had managed to avoid any mention of _his_ name, and now…

Slowly Emma got to her feet, shrugging her jacket on and reaching for her cuffs. It wasn't until she reached for her car keys that she stopped—just stopped. She wasn't ready to face him again. She was still angry and hurt, and confused and a whole host of other emotions that really didn't make any sense, and the only coherent thought she could make out was that she really, really, didn't want to see him right now.

"Hey David," She called out. "There's a disturbance down at the Green Dragon, do you mind checking it out? I've still got a load of paperwork to get through…" She asked crossing her fingers behind her back.

"Sure," He practically leapt out of his chair; it seemed he wasn't one for sitting still... and most days she'd be right there with him. "Do you want anything? I could swing by Grannies on my way back."

She shook her head and sat back down, trying not to feel guilty. There wasn't any reason to feel guilty… he was her deputy; she could send him instead if she wanted…

_Coward…_

~O~

Emma raised her eyes from her paperwork to see David leaning against the door to her office- she jumped, she hadn't heard him return and had no idea how long he'd been stood there. "Oh you're back, how was it?"

"Fine, Hook was just a little rowdy."

"Well, as long as it's all settled now…"

"Yeah… It's all settled…" It was obvious he was curious why she hadn't mentioned it was Hook when she sent him out, but Emma didn't have an answer for him—or even really for herself.

"Did you want something…?" She said, attempting to steer him away from the subject of Hook.

David appeared to make his mind up about something: his back straightened and his tone smoothed out, as he transformed from hesitant father to Prince charming; apparently needing his princely courage to follow through with his decision. It was honestly a little startling to observe.

"You know, Snow was obsessed with revenge when I met her."

"What?"

"She had this pouch of dust she was going to use to kill Regina and everything. She didn't exactly radiate serenity and goodness when I met her; she had a rather fierce spitfire attitude and she certainly didn't pull her punches" David smiled fondly, a softness entering his determined aura. "But I fell in love with her, hell bent on revenge and all."

Emma groaned, "Please tell me you aren't implying that I love—"

David interrupted her, moving further into the room to sit opposite her, resting his arms on the desk between them. His expression remained unreadable. "Look, I don't like it—god knows I've spent enough time trying to convince Snow that she's seeing things… but recently, well I've started to notice things as well, and I'm not going to be so encompassed by my own feelings on the matter to ignore yours." He sighed, briefly hiding his head in his hands. "Love—"

"David, please don't…" She knew what he was going to say—and every fibre of her being rebelled against it… she didn't want to hear this.

"Wait, Emma just let me finish…"

Surprisingly she found herself nodding; unable to do much else as she watched the conflicted emotions play out across David's face.

"Love isn't something we have control over…" He chuckled softly, "as much as probably every person in the _many_ worlds wished it was. Sometimes it just happens, like your mother and I, but even then it was something we had to fight for." He moved his hand across the table to squeeze hers. "And I know you've been hurt in the past, and you have no idea how much I wish you never had to go through that kind of pain… but Emma—love is _worth_ fighting for."

Wait. What? She tugged her hand free, feeling her anger bubble to the surface… "You think I should fight for _Neal_? I don't… god, that was years ago…besides he's engaged—I… Uh. No. Just no—"

David smiled fondly as he stood. "I wasn't talking about Neal."

Um, Hook? Really? But Emma didn't love him… She'd only just met him for goodness sake, this was the real world—there is no such thing as love at first sight… besides she was still furious with him. She shook her head. "He's trying to kill Gold."

"Snow was trying to kill Regina."

"Regina was evil; she was called the _Evil_ Queen for crying out loud?"

"Rumplestiltskin wasn't exactly sunshine and daisy's either…"

David turned to leave, seemingly believing his last statement to be a 'case closed' kind of thing… but Emma stopped him… there was something she needed to get off her chest, and … well… it seemed she needed a dad right now. "He… er, I mean, well… we argued, I suppose in a way I gave him an ultimatum: Gold or me." She stared at her fingers. "He chose Gold."

There it was… the thing that had been bugging her for days; laid out in the open—in front of her father of all people…

Oh ground, feel free to open up anytime now.

"Did he even know exactly what 'you' entailed? From what Snow tells me, you and Hook have two stepped around each other since you met. Does he know there was a possibility for more?" To his credit, he sounded far more comfortable with this conversation than he looked.

"It could never work." Emma replied, ignoring David's question. "He's Captain Hook… and I'm…"

"My _daughter_…" David said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "…A strong passionate woman, who can see into the heart of people—and who doesn't care what other people think of her, _or_ her choices."

"But Henry…" She began; unsure.

"—would want his mother to be happy..." He turned to leave then stopped; when it seemed his protective nature got the better of him. "And while I stand by what I said, about fighting for love… if someone can't see how brilliant you are straight away, then they really aren't worth your time, and as your father I retain the right to break the legs of anyone who hurts you."

She snorted, "I thought I was a 'strong passionate woman'?"

"You are, but even strong passionate women are entitled to equally passionate fathers, who retain the right to fight in their daughters corner whether they require aid or not." David winked playfully at her, "Now if you'll excuse me, there's a young man sat drinking tea in my house who awaits a broken leg and a fractured jaw for good measure. I only have a small window of opportunity before Henry come's home, so I'd best be off."

Emma laughed at his retreating back, not for a second believing he'd actually carry through with his threat. Part of her hated the idea of Neal drinking tea with Mary Margaret, she didn't like how easily he was reinserting himself into her life… but the other part; the larger part, was pondering her fathers' words.

David seemed convinced she had feelings for Hook, and apparently so did Mary Margaret, and maybe she did… but regardless to any ones speculation she had no idea the depth of those feelings. It was all well and good David talking about love, and 'fighting for it' but Emma couldn't help but feel it was a little to… _fairytale-ish_ to fit into her life—and yes, she was fully aware of the irony in that statement.

After all only a week ago told Hook to give up on his quest for vengeance otherwise he'd be dealing with her. Not exactly a great start to an epic love story.

And sure he was attractive, something she'd noticed the first time she met him—she did have eyes after all. She'd looked into those faraway blue eyes of his and thought 'hell, that's an attractive blacksmith' followed by the tingly feeling she got when she was lied to and the thought immediately turned to 'hell, that's an attractive liar' and _hello_ walls; she wasn't getting hurt again.

However, it was impossible to deny there was a sort of spark, accompanied by a rush of _something_ when she looked at him. She was drawn to him and Emma wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not.

Besides, their argument was still fresh in her mind and she was still stung by some of his comments towards her. Hell, she wasn't even sure Hook _liked_ _her_—after all his flirting was often little more than a defense mechanism—and here she was going off on a tangent and it may not even be an issue.

Let's not forget: He is still in love with Milah.

…But something in the way he looked at her, the way his gaze remained intense and penetrating, a blatant invitation screaming to be acknowledged.

She folded her arms across her desk and dropped her head down upon them. God…What was she doing?

~O~

_Neal's gone home for the night; you can come out of hiding. –David. _

Finally, Emma thought as she read David's text. It was bordering on ten o'clock, and she'd exhausted her supply of paper work, even as back logged as she was—there was only so much to complete. She'd spent the last few hours rearranging her office, all the while purposefully avoiding the bottom draw of her desk.

Not, mind, that she was hiding. She was just… okay, yeah, she was hiding. It's just watching Neal with Henry hurt a little too much to deal with on a regular basis…

_Just about to leave. –Emma._ She replied, stifling a yawn. She made to get up before she paused, frowned at her phone and fired off another text.

_And I'm not hiding._

David's lack of response was mocking in its absence. Blasted fathers—if she'd known this was what it was like she wouldn't have wished so hard for one all these years. Okay—so that was a total lie. She grinned to herself- she kind of loved it. David and Mary Margaret were everything she could have hoped for.

Lazily she stretched, extending her arms above her head and rolling her neck slowly. God, she'd kill for a good night's sleep. Carelessly she tapped her sock covered feet around under her desk, searching for the shoe's she toed off hours ago. Aha- she slid her feet into them.

Finally she reached for her car keys.

She heard the front door to the station slam back on its hinges.

Her eyes fluttered shut briefly in frustration—so close, she was so, so, close to just going home. Cautiously she got to her feet, moving out of her office towards the stations entrance. To her disbelief Neal came through the door, supporting a badly beaten Hook.

"What the hell happened?" Emma demanded as she rushed forward to help. Between them it took no time at all to manoeuvre him into the nearest chair. "Why didn't you take him to the hospital?"

"That would be because of me dearie." The drawling tones of Mr Gold followed his son into the room, his cane—notably bloodied—ever present at his side.

"Shut up, and sit down." Surprisingly the biting phrase came from Neal not Emma, earning the man a shocked glance from the blonde woman.

"Bae…"

"Just sit." Neal's tone was harsh, and Emma didn't think she recalled ever hearing him speak to anyone that way before. He'd always been so laid back—about everything.

Emma dropped to her knees before Hook, and gently prodded his chin up so she could look in his eyes. Thankfully he was still conscious, but he remained a little dazed.

"Neal, what happened?" She repeated, her fingers probing the pirates head for cuts and bumps.

"I'd just left yours. I was headed back to my room when I stumbled across these two going at it in the street. I managed to break it up and brought them here, I figured since you hadn't been home all day you were probably still at the station…"

"But why here? Look at him, he needs a doctor."

Neal spared a brief glance over his shoulder then lowered his head next to hers; whispering. "It's not safe for Hook there. Listen, I know my dad alright, for tonight at least, until he's calmed down, it's better to keep Hook somewhere safe."

"How exactly am I supposed to keep him safe?" She whispered back furiously, "In case you didn't notice, your dad is _Rumplestilskin_."

"Look, Em… when he's like this, it's like he's not himself. He's not my dad… he's that thing. The dark one… please, you have to help."

It sucked really, that after all these years, even though she's moved on, those damn eyes never failed to get to her.

"Fine," she muttered. "Take your dad home, I've got this covered. Just wait here a second while I grab the first aid kit; I'm pretty sure there's one in my office."

Neal chuckled.

She raised an eyebrow, "What?"

"Nothing, it's just, who would have thought it. Emma Swan, a Sheriff, with her own office." His gaze was soft—almost proud as he looked at her. "Life sure takes us to mysterious places."

She began to get up, when something he said triggered a thought. "Why do you care what happens to Hook anyway?"

"I told you, this wasn't the first world I travelled too."

She grinned despite herself, "Never land?" Unbidden memories of a map and Tallassee rose to the forefront of her mind.

As if he was thinking the same thing, he smiled, almost fondly and nodded. "I swear I almost had a heart attack when you said that."

She laughed despite herself, "I thought you were freaking about settling down. It's why I was so persistent about asking 'are you sure?'"

The almost casual conversation trailed off, as if at the same time they realised they had an audience.

Exit Emma, centre stage. "Er, right. First aid kit… I'll be right back."

~O~

"I found it—" Emma trailed off as she re-entered the main portion of the station to see Neal barely restraining Hook from diving at Mr Gold; the later of who was chuckling darkly and egging the already frustrated man on.

Oh geez…She straightened her back, "Get out." She snapped angrily at the elderly man, noticing his cane was less of a clutch and more of a prop; spinning in his hand like a sword.

He smirked at her, "Not without Bae…" A hint of something else crept into his tone at the mention of his son, and the next instant the cane was once again perpendicular to the floor.

Neal finally managed to wrestle Hook back into the chair, something Emma attributed to how beaten the pirate truly was. She knew from personal experience that Neal was no fighter; he was more of a run and avoid type of guy.

"Okay, Okay, I'll go." Neal muttered, looking anywhere but his father. His hands remained braced on each of the pirate's shoulders, keeping the man in his seat. His gaze lingered briefly on Hook then fell upon Emma. "Are you busy tomorrow?"

"What?" She said immediately, both surprised and suspicious.

"We need to talk and you've been avoiding me," he answered.

"I haven't—okay, fine. Granny's, lunch?" Emma wanted to end this conversation quickly. Hook and Gold weren't exactly the two people she wanted around to witness her awkward attempts at avoiding her ex.

He nodded relieved.

Emma glanced cautiously at Gold, who, thankfully, was no longer laughing, or goading Hook, but his appearance seemed slightly off—his skin appeared rougher than usual… but perhaps it was simply the lighting. "Are you going to be okay?" She directed her question at Neal.

Neal's lips quirked into a smile, "He's still my dad, Em… Don't worry, I'll be fine."

"I wasn't worried."

The Worst part..? She wasn't even sure if she was telling the truth.

~O~

_Hey, I'll be home a little later. Something came up. – Emma_

_Is everything okay? Need a hand? –David_

_Thanks. But I've got it under control. –Emma_

_Stay safe. –David_

_Don't I always? –Emma_

~O~

Hooks earlier, brief, lunge attempt at Gold appeared to sap whatever fight was left in him, as he didn't so much as glance in her direction when she snapped on a pair of blue gloves, nor did he flinch when she dabbed an antiseptic soaked cotton bud against his temple.

Neal had practically dragged his father from the station about five minutes ago, and since then Emma had given Hook a thorough once over. Other than a shallow gash on his temple, his only other injuries seemed to be the numerous bruises littering his skin; swelling to life in shades of deep reds and faint blues.

The sight of him, broken and bloodied sapped the remaining anger from her veins. It was pathetic really, over a week she'd nursed her anger and the visage of him slightly beaten up just knocked her frustration right out the window. She racked her brain for something to break the awkward silence… wondering, in the wake of her forgotten annoyance, whether Hook was still irritated with her. She found herself hoping he wasn't.

It was Hook who finally broke the silence. "Last I saw the lad he was dead set on running from his father, never thought he'd ever stand up to the man." He cast a shrewd look in her general direct, still avoiding eye contact. "Guess he found something worth fighting for."

Emma couldn't help but snort, "Yeah, his _son_. I had nothing to do with it. Also I recall he helped _you_ out, going to tell me he was _fighting_ for you too? _Something_ you want to tell me?"

That got a response. Granted it was merely a glare, but huzzah, eye contact. It was progress.

"How do you know each other anyway?"

He shrugged, "Our paths have crossed several times over the years."

Emma silently gestured for him to continue as she once again reached for the antiseptic but Hook remained silent. Perhaps it was a little petty, but she pressed slightly harder as she dabbed at his cut.

He glanced at her in annoyance. "Why the sudden interest?"

"Hmm, I don't know. Why would I want to learn more about my son's father? Obviously I should be content knowing practically nothing about the man I had a child with… especially when everything I thought I knew turned out to be a lie." She replied sarcastically.

"I meant why trust my words on the subject?"

She sighed, "…because you're more likely to give me the truth—don't look at me like that. Everyone in this damn town seems to have an ulterior motive. But all you want is to kill Rumplestiltskin, nothing you say about Neal is going to affect that."

A strange look passed over his face.

"Please." She pressed.

Hook gaze refocused on his hands. "I met the boy in Neverland, found him in the water. He became part of my crew. He was a good lad; hard working, a might too soft to be a pirate but he got on well enough with my men. Course I didn't realise who he was a first. The boy learned early on that I wanted the crocodile dead so he probably thought it safer if I remained ignorant of his parentage. But then he—like you—noticed my tattoo."

"What then?"

"We parted ways, he'd learnt what Rumplestiltskin did to his mother and I learnt who he was… and while I may not be the most noble of men, I'm not one to force a boy to witness his father's death. Upon leaving Neverland I went after the crocodile, and the lad continued onto a different world to continue running from the man."

"His mother…?" Emma looked at him in confusion for a moment…. "_Milah?_"

Hook nodded not at all surprised she'd made the connection.

Emma recoiled and leapt to her feet. "Gold killed his wife?! His son's mother?!"

Hook chuckled bitterly, "…And the lass finally gets it."

_Justice could never be murder. _

~O~

After the revelation of exactly who Milah was Emma retreated into silence, dabbing absently at Hook's bleeding knuckles. It didn't occur to her that the conversation with Hook meant his initial post beating daze had faded—hopefully indicating the man didn't have a concussion—and that he could tend to his own wounds. She continued to dab at the broken skin, all but oblivious to his scrutiny.

She just didn't know what to think anymore. Every time she thought she'd come to grips with feuds between the various occupants of Storybrooke something else always seemed to pop up.

It had stunned her. Hell, she was beyond stunned, she was horrified. Gold had murdered his wife. All because she'd run away with a pirate. Not that Emma was condoning Milah's actions because woah; dick move there, but still, how barbaric was that land if people just murdered their wives if they ran away with pirates?

And not just Gold… Regina put a whole town under a curse—a curse that robbed people of their true identities—just to get back at one woman?

Part of her wanted to run home, pack up a suitcase—no, forget the suitcase, just grab Henry and go. God, how was she supposed to keep him safe in a town with magic and nut jobs? Especially when the 'nut jobs' were the ones with magic?

Rationally she knew running wasn't an option. What about her parents? They couldn't cross the town line. She'd be taking Henry from the only home he'd ever known; all the places and people he cared about. She couldn't—wouldn't do that to him.

But could things really stay as they were?

Emma shook her head. Things couldn't stay as they were, not with Cora, Regina and Gold pulling the strings behind everything that happened in Storybrooke. Somehow, something needed to change.

"You alright lass?" Interrupted Hook; his voice soft with a familiar roughness to it. "Not that I don't _love_ the attention, really a bloke could get used to this, but I think the bleedings stopped."

"Right, yeah." She murmured absently.

Emma started to pull her hand away when Hook grabbed it, stilling its movement.

"Wh-?" The question died on her lips as he carefully turned it over, baring her palm to world. She resisted the urge to shiver as his hook moved to support her hand; cold and smooth, a complete contrast to the warm calloused skin of the finger tracing the faint line marring her hand. Almost without thinking she raised her eyes to his, once again reminded of the intensity the man was capable of. Dark stormy blue eyes bore into hers and for the briefest of moments she forgot how to breathe.

"Seems you got a chance to return the favour…" A bruise was beginning to darken across his cheekbone. "Look, Swan, I said some things I should probably apologise for. You're just trying to protect your loved ones; even a pirate can't fault you for that." He smiled ruefully. "I shouldn't have lost my temper."

She stared at him in disbelief. That was certainly out of the blue. Never in a million years had she expected _Captain Hook_ to apologise and especially not like… like _that_…

"Wow," she started wryly, "You really know how to apologise."

The grin she received in response was disarmingly charming, accompanied by a smug sort of shrug. "Gotta avoid the hangman somehow love..."

He paused for a moment eyeing her in contemplation, but then it seemed he just couldn't help himself. "Want to know what else I can do?"

Oh my god, way to ruin the moment. She snatched her hand out of his, doing her best not to smile—because she was _not_ amused, she wasn't! "Don't push your luck."

~O~

Neal was already sat at a booth the following day when Emma finally made her way through the door to Granny's. She gave Ruby a small smile to sooth the woman's questioning glance as she slid into the booth opposite Neal.

"Hey, how's Hook?"

"He's fine, crashed on my couch last night. David wasn't impressed, but from the sniping I had to endure between the two of them this morning I'd say Hook's going to be fine. A little bruised but otherwise alright."

She didn't mention that after her and David's er… _chat_ yesterday she'd been forced to explain a rather uncomfortable misunderstanding when her dad woken to find the pirate out cold on her couch as she pottered around the kitchen. It was _mortifying_.

"So," She said finally, giving him her full attention. She was pretty sure he hadn't asked to meet just to talk about Hook. "What's up?"

"I want you to help me save my dad."

She blinked. "What?"

Neal took a small sip of his coffee before he repeated himself. "I want you to help me free my dad from the dark ones curse."

"The dark ones curse?" She parroted numbly, of all the things she's thought Neal might have wanted to talk about, this wasn't it. Call her selfish, but she thought maybe—just maybe the damn fool realised he'd forgotten to make a pretty big apology to someone: that someone being her.

An uncomfortable feeling settled over her chest; heavy and immovable. She should have known it would be something Rumplestiltskin related. She should have known she wasn't going to be first in Neal's thoughts. The disappointment was shattering. She'd held on to the foolish hope that maybe, just maybe he was simply biding his time, summoning the courage to talk to her about it properly but he wasn't—he really wasn't.

"You did read the book Henry lent me… didn't you?" He teased, but she couldn't help the anger that rose in the wake of her disappointment.

He wanted her to help him save Rumplestilksin, as if Neal was allowed to simply ask favours. _He'd left her_. She owed him nothing and she _certainly_ didn't owe Gold anymore. She couldn't believe Neal had the nerve to just sit there, even after he dumped Hook on her last night without a care for plans she may have had, and to ask her to risk her neck to save his dad?

Hell no. She was done fixing his problems; he could save his dad on his own. Furiously she got to her feet, ignored his noise of surprise, and stormed out of the diner.

~O~

Half way down Main Street he caught up with her.

"Okay," He said, spinning around in front of her so she was forced to stop. "I've pissed you off… I don't understand… I thought you would have wanted to help Henry's Grandfather, he wasn't always like this. Before the curse he was a good man."

She regretted it the moment the words left her lips. "What about Milah?"

He froze.

Emma hated the pain that flashed across his face, frantically she tried to backtrack. This wasn't how she'd wanted this conversation to go. "No, Neal, I'm sorry, that was uncalled for… I just, god Neal, your dad just makes things so difficult sometimes."

He tucked his hands into his coat pockets; shoe's shuffling awkwardly on the sidewalk. "My dad loved my mother, Em. I grew up with him, I _know_ him. It wasn't until that—that stupid curse that everything changed. Please, _please,_ just help me get my dad back."

She snapped. There was no other explanation for it. One minute she was calm, and trying her best to control her anger, the next it was loose and refusing to be caged until she had an explanation…

Because he was still _asking for things: _time with Henry, for them to be civil with each other, for her to save his dad… but he wasn't giving her anything in return. She needed answers, and it seemed she'd finally had enough of _waiting_ for them.

"Why? Why should I do anything for you?! You sent me to jail."

He winced, recoiling in on himself. "Em…"

"No. No more excuses, no more dodging the question. Forget Storybrooke and magic and your Dad for just a _second_ okay… I need the truth. You sent me to jail, why?"

"It's not that simple…"

"Make it that simple. I want to know why, Neal. We were going to settle down, Tallahassee; do you remember? We were going to start a family. Gods, we were going to start a _family_, have a _home_, everything you knew I'd always wanted." She took a step back from him, refusing to be mollified by the pain she saw mirrored in his eyes.

She wasn't stupid; she knew it had hurt him. Just as she knew he'd loved her—once. New York had given her that much, the decision, whatever reason he'd come up with to justify leaving her hadn't been an easy one. But prison?

"But you sent me to prison. I got two years. I had _Henry_ in prison. I need to know why walking away wasn't enough?"

"You want to do this now?" He asked, "Here?" He gestured to the sidewalks of Main Street with the various towns folk.

"Yes Neal. Damn it, you could have just walked away! You wanted to run from your dad fine, run, but why in the world did that include—"

"I wanted to go to prison for you." He interrupted, loud and exasperated and this was what she wanted. A real, honest heartfelt explanation that hasn't been rehearsed over and over until it sounds good enough to let him sleep at night. "I never should have…" He broke off. "I never should have let August convince me that prison was the right option, but at the time it sounded… I don't know… August said you'd lost your way, and that you needed to find it again; to get out of stealing… and me… I was bad for you Emma."

"Bad for me?! Neal at that point in my life you were the only good thing I'd…" She stopped and shook her head. "Don't you think that should have been a decision I had to make for myself?"

"You don't get it Emma, I loved you. I would never have been able to just walk away but prison—prison meant I didn't have a choice." He reached out and gently placed a hand against her cheek, his thumb brushing away tears she hadn't realised had started to fall. "But I thought about you every day—every _single_ day."

She stepped away, feeling something oddly significant in the way his hand simple fell to his side. It took a few seconds in which she swiped at the tears on her face and she tried to form words without falling apart, all the while becoming more and more conscious of the audience they'd gathered. Finally she spoke, "But in the years that followed you never tried to find me."

His eyes dropped to the floor, then to her surprise rose to meet hers; it seemed he'd finally realised he owed her that much. "No." He whispered softly. "I didn't."

~O~

AN: So, Em's had a bit of an emotional rollercoaster; sorry if it got a little repetitive, it stemmed a little from the way people tend to overthink the same thing over and over again, especially when it's something close to the heart you know? But I realise in fic's it can get a little annoying… but I felt it was necessary, feel free to disagree though! :D

Uh... and sorry again about the abundance of Neal, it kind of just happened.


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